


The Right Time and Place

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Time Travel, Top Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:31:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco discovers something in the restricted section at Hogwarts and ends up 25 years into the future only to be rescued by a Potter.</p><p>
  <b>Written for Draco/Al love fest. Time travel fic. Draco is 26, Albus is 25, Harry Potter is 51.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Time and Place

Disclaimer: Harry Potter with all its characters and settings belongs to J.K Rowling and her publishers, no money is made with this fanwork.

\--**--

_"Potter?" Draco asked, conscious of a set of piercing green eyes staring at him. Everything was blurry except for the eyes; the eyes were the only thing Draco recognised._

_"Yeah?" an unfamiliar voice answered._

_"Who are you?" Draco asked. The man wasn’t Potter._

_"Albus. Albus Potter." The answer stunned Draco silent._

Let's start from the beginning...

≤•≥

There were a lot of things people didn’t know about H.G. Wells.

The first: she was a woman. A common misconception was that the Muggle author, often considered the guru of all time-travel fiction, was, in fact, male. Of course Muggles had thought the author was a male because Muggles—unlike wizards, as pure-blooded and aristocratic they may seem—weren’t feminists. Wizards often encouraged feminism and considered any woman that wasn’t operating at the best of her potential as a waste of space. Cases in point: Hermione Granger, and even Draco’s aunt Bellatrix Lestrange. They were both very powerful, very dominating women who never took ‘no’ for an answer.

The second thing most people didn’t know about H.G. Wells was that she wasn’t even a Muggle.

The last but not the least thing was that H.G. Wells was none other than Hermione Granger, who had, in fact, invented, or at least _discovered_ , time-travel: travelling a distance more than a mere Time Turner could take you.

Hermione Granger Weasley, aka H.G. Wells, had first dabbled with time-travel when she’d used a time-turner in her third year at Hogwarts. After that, she had slowly begun research on the concepts of time-travel and magic and how the two could be utilised together and experimented with. She wanted to discover how one would no longer need a time turner but could simply master a spell to travel.

Hermione had always considered that if she mastered time travel she could have prevented Voldemort's rise to power, saving hundreds of lives and enabling Harry to be raised by his loving parents

The trouble had been that no matter what technological advancement a person could create, he or she simply was not allowed to mess with time. Despite the scenarios that she’d tried, the war had still happened, Voldemort had still risen to power and Harry had still ended up defeating him. Harry’s mother also still died, regardless of how much Hermione had attempted to alter the past. Eventually, she had given up and dealt with the reality that had been her original.

Harry Potter’s parents were murdered by Voldemort, and Harry lived with his aunt and uncle until he attended Hogwarts, lost his godfather at the age of fourteen, and nearly killed Draco Malfoy in their sixth year.

By the age of twenty-seven, Hermione had time-travelled to the past so much that she had exhausted her lifespan. "Bad things happen to wizards who meddle with time," she had once said to Harry Potter. So on her deathbed at the age of twenty-seven, Hermione had, in fact, lived to be nearly ninety-eight. She had gone back and forth in time so much, while her physical appearance remained the same, her organs had eventually failed. She left behind a legacy of her brilliant discoveries along with her two children, Rose and Hugo Weasley.

H.G. Wells had become famous in the late 1800s with _his_ books and literature. After Hermione had come to terms with the fact that she couldn’t change the future by trying to alter the past, she had settled into travelling back and forth in time and pursuing with her passion of writing. After she had become famous in the Muggle universe for her science fiction novels, she had relied on the help of Polyjuice Potion to make public appearances.

Hermione had hidden her notes in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library the moment she’d found out about her illness and her imminent death. She figured that since help was always available at Hogwarts for those who sought it, Hogwarts should be the place they could turn to for answers if they eventually needed to time-travel.

Imagine Draco Malfoy’s surprise when he came across the notes.

Draco Malfoy, 26, the Potions professor at Hogwarts, was quite bored with routine when he decided to venture into the Restricted Section of the library during the Christmas holidays. His parents were both deceased and he had no other family left besides his aunt Andromeda and his cousin Teddy whom, as they were quite close to the Potters, Draco had decided to avoid entirely.

≤•≥

The book on the top shelf was titled _The Apocalyptic Life_. Draco couldn’t help but be intrigued by the title. He flicked his wand, and the book came flying into his hands. The author of the book was H.G. Wells. Draco knew the name. He had read the works by the Muggle author and had heard of his mysterious disappearance.

Draco opened the book and discovered a secret compartment. Draco’s concentration was broken when he heard a faint crash. He quickly closed the book and placed it inside his robe. Grabbing his lantern, he turned to see where the noise came from. It was a student who seemed to be trespassing. The student panicked when he saw Draco and ran. Draco didn’t bother chasing after the student and returned to his quarters.

In the privacy of his chambers, Draco opened the book again. The contents that were in the compartment came with a warning, or instructions—Draco couldn’t decide.

~~~~

  
_The Specifics of Time-travel_ \- By Hermione Granger-Weasley (H.G. Wells)

Time-travel is a blind leap: unless one plans accordingly, he or she really does not know where they might end up. The planet is in constant motion, whether one is travelling backwards or forwards. One does not _just_ travel in time; they also have to be able to move through space with perfect precision. The landscape is ever changing. One may start at the Great Hall in Hogwarts but depending on the time and the distance travelled he/she may end up on the Great Wall in China. The equation must be followed precisely to the "T" in order for the traveller to land at the desired destination in time.

The following are a list of various items to consider if the traveller is ready for the journey:

1\. The way the body will process food is abnormal. For the first few hours, if not the first few days, the traveller will be hungry, but whatever is consumed will render the traveller nauseous. The only items that the body does not reject are ginger beer and Firewhisky. It is also recommended that the traveller does not consume food for at least five hours before the journey.

2\. Communication may be tough. Wherever one travels, be it the past or the future, one must make sure to stay very quiet. Observe the local culture before speaking. Avoid speaking unless asked a direct question.

3\. Regardless of where the traveller is, the traveller does not exist. Either they have not been born yet, or they have already died (gone missing, presumed dead). Once a wizard or witch travels to the future, their body is missing from the present.

When travelling into the future, encountering one-self is impossible. However, travelling to the past, one must make sure _never_ to come face to face with their younger-self.

_Note: if the reader has not yet figured it out, travelling to the past is highly treacherous. Therefore, the remarks, instructions and explanations are to highly encourage future time-travel only_.

4\. The traveller will be rendered impoverished. This can be remedied if the traveller is journeying to the future. The future-explorer can ensure saving funds in an undisclosed, safe place, where he/she can get to easily. Gringotts is the best place to store one’s reserves. No questions are ever asked, as long as the traveller can provide the password.

5\. One cannot carry any material possessions into the future or past—including clothes, wands, spectacles, etc. It is highly important, especially for future time-travel to ensure these items are in a secure location.

6\. Time-travel will kill you… _faster._

The ingredients contained in the phial in this book, along with the apparatus and the attached theory, are good for a one-time jump only. They are encoded for travelling in the future though, if one so desires, he or she can decrypt the code and travel in the past. However, keep in mind: the contents of the phial _are_ for a one-time jump. If you travel in the future, you can collect the ingredients, decipher the equation, and return to your present time. Nevertheless, the traveller must consider, the more jumps one makes, the faster one will die.

~~~~

Draco stared at the parchment with shock. Hermione Granger had been a time-traveller and she’d died because of it. He was afraid and peculiarly intrigued by the idea. He placed the parchment aside and looked at the rest of the contents of the book.

Along with the parchment of instructions on the dangers or time-travel, Draco discovered a small phial with a potion, a parchment with the list of ingredients in the potion, a mathematical equation, and a strange looking apparatus. The device was an oval shaped clock-looking appliance with four dials. The numbers seemed to decrease from 12 to 1, yet they seemed infinite. Draco was fascinated. Had Granger invented this piece of equipment?

≤•≥

The next morning, Draco packed his room. He boxed up his entire life at Hogwarts into two travel cases. He was determined to try what he’d discovered.

He wanted to time-travel.

Draco left his luggage by the entrance of Hogwarts and went to see Headmistress McGonagall to give his notice.

"What do you mean, you’re giving your notice of resignation?"

"I am taking a holiday for the rest of the Christmas break, and I am unsure if I will return in time before the new term starts," Draco answered with as much conviction as he could possibly give.

"I don’t understand!" McGonagall was enraged.

"I understand that, Headmistress. But, I must do this and I cannot provide any more information." She nodded in resignation and Draco soon left.

That was the last time McGonagall ever saw him, or he ever saw McGonagall, or any of the other Hogwarts staff for that matter.

≤•≥

Within a week, Draco had set everything in order.

1\. He figured out when and where he wanted to travel to. It was simple. Twenty-five years in the future.

2\. He purchased a wand at Ollivander’s and told the wandmaker to hold on to it for the next twenty-five years.

3\. He opened a private account at Gringotts and asked them to keep the information of his arrangement a secret.

4\. Draco copied the instructions left by Granger and also placed them in his vault at Gringotts. He needed a way to get back. If he couldn’t take anything material with him, he needed to make sure, something was already there waiting for him.

5\. He sent an owl to the Ministry of Magic. Not sure of where to send it, Draco sent his letter of intent to the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. He had figured out via the formula when he would arrive, given he wanted to be at the Malfoy Manor when he did, he wasn’t intrigued by the idea of showing up naked on the Great Wall of China.

Draco’s letter to the Ministry was short: _This is Draco Malfoy, I will be at the Malfoy Manor, private guest room on the first floor, the ninth of November, year: two thousand and thirty-one. Please bring a set of robes, ginger beer, and Firewhisky. If my house-elf, Tokie, is still alive, he will inform you of all the details._ Draco Charmed the letter to reveal itself to the Ministry one year prior to his arrival.

Draco calculated the formula for his arrival on the parchment provided and the mathematical calculation formed into four numbers. He followed the instructions and rotated the dials on the device according to the four numbers. He drank the potion and clicked the device on. It was show time.

≤•≥

On the ninth of November, two thousand and thirty, Albus Severus Potter, a member of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, walked into the office, hung over from having celebrated his twenty-fourth birthday the night before. He saw an owl waiting at his desk with a letter addressed to him. Well, not exactly him. The letter was addressed to the Department Head who happened to be him ever since his boss had gone missing. _The joys of working at Magical Accidents and Catastrophes_.

Albus opened the letter and thought of it as a joke. It was probably his brother having a go at him because he had always been teased in the Potter household to be the second Potter obsessed with Draco Malfoy. His father had been fixated with Malfoy in his sixth year at Hogwarts, and Albus had always been interested in the mysterious vanishing of Malfoy a month after Albus had been born.

≤•≥

On the eighth of November, two thousand and thirty-one, Albus had everything prepared. He had tracked down Tokie, the house-elf. He discovered his aunt Hermione’s journals, thanks to Rose. Albus also friended Garrick Ollivander’s grandson, Sebastian, who told Albus all about Draco Malfoy’s wand that Ollivander’s had been ‘guarding’ for over twenty years.

No one believed Albus, especially his father. After he discovered that James had not, in fact, sent him that owl, Albus had done his best to track down the sender. Not until his sister Lily Luna discovered the magic incantations that were pressed on the letter and informed him the letter was in fact twenty-four years old did Albus, after further research, discover that the letter was written in Draco Malfoy’s handwriting.

The Ministry wouldn’t reason with him. So, Albus simply asked for a holiday. Albus arrived at the Manor with Tokie on the seventh of November as a precautionary measure, awaiting Draco Malfoy’s arrival. A man whom he had never known but who had captivated his attention for nearly his entire life.

Albus slept on the sofa in the private guest room. A loud bang at four o’clock in the morning woke him up, startled. It was still dark, and the sun wasn’t due to rise for another hour or so.

" _Lumos_ ," Albus muttered, holding his wand tightly. He saw a naked figure of a man around his age with white blond hair, skin paler than a ghost and scars on his chest. Draco Malfoy was there, just as he had said he would be.

≤•≥

Everything was too dark, and then, in a matter of seconds, it was all too bright. Draco felt as though his body had exploded into millions of pieces and patched itself back together. He was cold, he was on the floor, he was naked. He was also holding onto the apparatus, the only thing that travelled with him.

"Are you okay?" a voice asked, coming from the same direction as the blinding light.

"Potter?" Draco asked, conscious of a set of piercing green eyes staring at him. Everything was blurry except for the eyes; the eyes were the only thing Draco recognised.

Had the time travel not been successful? Had it been successful but to the wrong time?

"Yeah?" the unfamiliar voice answered. "Mr Malfoy?"

"Who are you?" Draco asked. The man wasn’t Potter. Draco was scared. He felt as though his insides had twisted into a knot. Now he knew what H.G. had meant by ‘nauseous’. He thought he was going to die when the voice spoke again.

"Albus. Albus Potter." The answer stunned Draco silent. The figure quickly draped a blanket on Draco’s naked body. "I received your owl, and I brought everything you’ve asked for, even your house-elf."

"So, it worked?" Draco asked, astonished.

"I would assume, yes. You’ve been missing for twenty-five years," Albus answered. _Albus Potter?_ Draco couldn’t wrap his head around the idea. _I travel into the future only to be greeted by a Potter_.

"You’re a _Potter_?" Draco asked as Albus helped him up onto the armchair and Draco took a good look at the boy. His eyes had adjusted to the light and all shapes and forms were now quite definite. The boy was a near-spitting image of Potter.

"Yes, Harry Potter’s son. Albus Severus."

"Really?" Draco slightly mocked. "Albus. Severus?" The Potter boy nodded. "Severus Snape was my mentor—and I nearly..." Draco paused.

"Killed Albus Dumbledore, yes, I know..." There was a brief silence before Albus spoke again. "My dad says that you wouldn’t have killed him, no matter what anyone thinks."

"So today is the ninth of November?" Draco asked, attempting to change the subject. He had escaped into the future to abscond his past. He didn’t need this at the moment.

"Yes, it’s my birthday."

"Oh," Draco said. "Where is—did no one else—?" Draco didn’t know what to ask or how to ask it. _Do not communicate, do not ask any questions. Speak only when you are spoken to_.

"I work at the Ministry," Albus said. "I received the owl and, at first, thought it was a joke, but when I discovered that it wasn’t, my sister, Lily, helped me figure out the incantation that was used was valid and that you really had sent that letter. My brother James didn’t believe me—"

"How many of you are there?" Draco asked without thinking. Albus laughed. "I see the Weasley apple doesn’t fall far from the tree—" Draco regretted saying that immediately.

"Just the three of us: James, me and Lily," Albus answered. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the insult. Draco nodded. "So I tried to explain to the Ministry and they didn’t believe me..."

"Still a useless bunch, I see," Draco commented, almost snorting.

"That’s what my dad says too," Albus replied with a grin. The boy had a nice smile. "But—unfortunately, he didn’t believe me either, he just chalked it off to..." Albus paused.

"To what?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. He wanted to know what Potter had to say about him all these years later.

"I was always fascinated by your disappearance," Albus said. Draco remembered what he’d read about time-travel: _regardless of where the traveller is, the traveller does not exist_. "So they thought it was just a manifestation of my fascination."

Draco snorted. "I can’t imagine anyone being fascinated with me," he said. A little less than a week ago, Draco had been the strict Potions Professor at Hogwarts, and was feared rather than fascinated.

"I can’t see why. You’re—" Albus stopped himself from finishing the sentence. Draco was intrigued. "I’ve got your ginger beer, do you want to try some?" he said instead. "Aunt Hermione’s notes state that time-travel can take quite a toll on one’s body."

Draco nodded and took the glass from Albus’ hands, his fingers casually brushing the back of Draco’s hand. Draco looked up to catch Albus’ eyes, he flustered at the amount of confidence they displayed; the boy may have looked like his father but his mannerism were completely different. He was confident, self-assured, _sexy_. Draco took a sip of the drink and coughed. "I’ll try the Firewhisky instead," he said.

Albus nodded, then obliged. The exhaustion of the travel crept up on Draco’s body, and, all of a sudden, he felt as though he’d run a marathon. "I’d like to go to my room now, if it’s available," he said.

Albus nodded again. "Tokie and I set it up for you two days ago." Albus helped Draco stand up and quickly looked away as Draco adjusted the blanket around his body. Draco smiled; the boy had manners. "Your clothes are still there; Tokie had managed to keep everything intact. Especially since Andro—" Albus paused.

"What is it?"

"Andromeda, Teddy’s grandmother, your aunt—"

"Let me guess: it’s been twenty-five years, so she’s passed?" Draco asked, almost in a matter-of-factly sort of way. There was no point beating around the bush. Albus nodded. "Did she inherit the Manor after my—my disappearance?"

"It wasn’t until I reached out for Tokie, I discovered that he’d explained everything to your aunt. She didn’t want to live in the Manor, but didn’t sell it, and Teddy—it seemed Teddy didn’t really care for it either."

Draco listened to the boy in silence. He was curious as to what had happened to the rest of his family in the past few years which had been mere moments for him. They reached Draco’s room, and, as he sat on his bed, Albus walked towards the cupboard to get him a pair of pyjamas. "Are these okay?" he asked, and Draco nodded.

"They’re my favourites," Draco replied. He looked at Albus who seemed to blush, turning to give Draco his privacy again. Draco started to believe that perhaps the boy _was_ fascinated with him. He still didn’t understand why; he probably wasn’t even born when Draco had _disappeared_. "How old are you?" Draco asked. He’d changed into his clothes, and Albus turned to face him.

"Twenty-five," Albus answered, almost as though he was proud of himself.

It was weird, not much had changed, yet it looked as though so much had. Potter had children of whom one was Draco's age, and, though he looked like Potter, the boy, the _man_ that stood in front of him was attractive. It was the second time in the matter of minutes Draco had found Albus to be sexy and attractive. This was wrong. Draco _could not_ be attracted to mini-Potter!

"Is everything alright?" Albus asked.

"Yes, fine," Draco replied. "I will need to get my affairs sorted." Albus looked confused. "My wand is at Ollivander's, and my _funds_ are at Gringotts..." Draco paused for a brief moment, nearly panicking. "There still is a Gringotts, isn't there?"

Albus laughed. "Yes, there still is a Gringotts, and I'm sure they'll have your inheritance, even after twenty-five years; they're good like that." Albus' smile was intoxicating.

"Right," Draco said, straightening himself. He _could not_ be attracted to this boy. "So, I should probably—"

"Get some rest," Albus said. "Yeah, good idea. Are you tired? I mean, I'm sure you're tired. How long—do you—"

"I probably just need to rest for a few hours. When it's full daylight out, I suppose I shall venture out. I've got some research to do," Draco answered.

"I don't understand..."

"Well, I've come to the future, I'd like to see how things are, and, also, my notes on time-travel are in my vault. I will need those along with any notes you can provide me with that Granger might've left. I probably have to start research on how to get back to—my time."

"You just got here, and you're thinking of leaving already?" Albus asked, slightly disappointed.

Draco couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sure that the research will take me some time, and I'm not sure how the Ministry will react on my reappearance twenty-five years later. Granger's instructions were to never reveal her time-travelling research with anyone at the Ministry."

"Oh yeah, I'm aware of that. I had to do a lot of leg work to get my cousins to share what they had from aunt Hermione's private files, especially since I didn't even know her—not really."

Draco felt as though Albus was hiding something, but couldn’t understand what. Granger had died a few months ago—in Draco’s time. The boy probably wasn’t even born when she passed. He shouldn’t have known her _at all_!

"Right," Draco said. "Well, if you wouldn't mind—"

"Do you mind if I stay?" Albus asked. "I can sleep on the sofa. I'm used to it, at least for the past few days. I just—I'm afraid that if I leave the room—it'll all become sort of _not real_."

Draco nodded; it was awkward but he was okay with it. He hadn't shared a room with someone in nearly eight years, let alone with someone who wanted to watch him sleep, which he was sure what Albus wanted to do.

≤•≥

Draco woke up panicking. He was hot, and his shirt had gotten a bit wet from the sweat. He had had a terrible nightmare. When he sat up in his bed, he saw Albus Potter slouched over on the sofa on his right. The Potter boy was sleeping soundly. Draco realised where he was. _Still in the future_. It had happened; he had time-travelled, and his first encounter had been with one of Potter's offspring.

Draco watched Albus and had forgotten about his nightmare. Albus' chest gently rose and fell with his even breathing. The boy's hair was just as much a mess as his father's. Draco was intrigued by the idea that the boy--a half Weasley--didn't have a dash of red hair on him. He continued watching him: the shirt that Albus wore was snug, it fit him well and his jeans did his body justice. Albus' legs fell over on the side of the sofa, dangling as he slept and he wore similar trainers to his father, Draco remembered. Draco couldn't help but move his gaze back up to the boy's torso but stopped when he spotted the bulge in his jeans. He was sleeping and he was hard.

Draco still tried to deny the fact that he shouldn't, he _couldn't_ be attracted to Albus, but he was. Draco's own body had betrayed him. The thought of Albus’ sexiness along with Draco’s watching of the bulge in Albus’ jeans had caused his own cock to twitch.

"No, not now," Draco whispered.

"Are you okay?" Albus said, and Draco nearly shrieked with surprise. Albus had woken up and most likely caught Draco staring at his erection. It was perfectly normal for men to get aroused whilst they were asleep—it was only biology, but Draco was utterly embarrassed.

"Yes, I'm fine," Draco snapped. "What time is it?"

Albus cast a _Tempus_ and answered. "It's almost noon; are you hungry?"

"Eating is not recommended for the first day of travel," Draco said. "I suppose I can have some ginger beer."

Albus nodded and hopped off the sofa. He went back to the sitting room, Draco reckoned, and returned a few moments later with two glasses of ginger beer. "I'm starving," he announced. "Would you like to accompany me to the kitchen, and I can make myself a sandwich?"

"Made yourself at home, have you?" Draco asked. Albus looked sheepish. "It's not a problem, go ahead, I will catch up." Draco still had an erection that he didn't wish the Potter boy to see. Albus nodded and left the room again. Draco got up off the bed, and adjusted his cock under his boxers before walking over to the closet to pick out a set of trousers and shirt to wear. He was still a Malfoy and he still needed to be properly dressed before he left his bedroom.

A few minutes later, dressed in black trousers, a grey button-down shirt, and black loafers, Draco headed to the kitchen. He walked down the corridor, and everything looked so—grim. The entire house seemed deserted; he supposed it had been for twenty-five years. It was still so odd; he was just there, and everything was so different.

"I was thinking," Albus said as soon as Draco entered the kitchen, "it'll probably be a good idea to go see my dad first."

"Why?" Draco asked, clearly annoyed.

"Well, you've been missing for twenty-five years and still look—you know—like yourself from twenty-five years ago. It might be better if my dad is there to be by your side, unless you want to go to the Ministry first. Technically, I should take you to the Ministry given my position and my duty—"

"I don't need Potter's help," Draco snapped. "Any of the Potters' help," he added.

"People will be confused, might feel threatened, or worst, might imagine some sort of Dark Magic was at play—and I don’t have to tell you how the _Prophet_ will twist this. They still try to publish gossip columns about our family—even after all this time."

Draco sighed. The boy had a point. _Stay quiet, don't talk unless you're asked a question first._ Draco reckoned it wouldn't hurt to rely on someone who could follow through, and, also, he'd love to see Potter. Maybe not _love to see,_ but he wondered about the expression an _old_ Potter would have upon seeing a still young and hot Draco. "Alright," he said, and Albus beamed up again. "Just stop—doing that."

"Doing what?" Albus asked raising an eyebrow.

"Grinning like—like a Gryffindor."

"I was in Slytherin."

≤•≥

Against his own reservations, Draco agreed to Albus’ request of staying at Albus’ flat for the first few days. His place was safeguarded, and, while the wizarding community knew of the Malfoy Manor, no one knew where any of the Potters resided. Draco packed a small suitcase with his essentials, and Albus insisted on carrying them. Draco said his goodbyes to Tokie and thanked him for keeping his secret for so many years. Tokie agreed to stay at the Manor until Draco returned in a few short days.

They first Apparated to Albus’ flat. It was small, but the rooms were bigger than the teachers' chambers at Hogwarts. Albus set Draco up in his guest bedroom which was directly across from Albus’ room. Draco was glad that the boy didn't insist on watching him sleep every night.

Next, they arrived at the Potters’ residence, number 12, Grimmauld Place.

"Mum, Dad, are you here? I've got something to show you," Albus announced as soon they'd arrived at his parents' place via the Floo.

"Your mum's gone to visit Ron and—" Harry Potter walked into the sitting room at his house and stood stunned as he looked over at the Floo and saw Albus with Draco. He looked as though he'd just seen a ghost. The look on his face matching that of a wizarding child seeing a spirit for the first time. "Merlin's beard—" Potter uttered. "Al—"

"I told you, and you didn't believe me!" Albus said as he walked up to Potter and hugged him.

Harry Potter, now probably fifty-one years of age, looked just as dashing as Draco had once remembered him to be. Ever since Draco had realised that he was gay, he had always thought of Potter as more than acceptable looking. He still hated the git more than anyone else on the planet, but that didn't mean that he didn't see what the man looked like. Now, twenty-five years later, a man in his fifties had never looked so good.

"I'll be damned, Potter," Draco said. "You grew up well."

"Malfoy?" Potter was still shocked. "I can't believe it—I—how—?"

"Granger left a piece of herself at Hogwarts that I found," Draco answered. "I wasn't sure if it would work, but a few hours ago I was sitting at the Manor looking over her instructions on time-travel, and then I found myself, moments later, _twenty-five_ years later, being rescued by your clone."

Albus scowled a bit when Draco said that. Draco reckoned the boy got that a lot.

Potter laughed. "I can't believe it, I still can't. I mean I know time-travel was possible—heck Hermione dedicated her life to it—still, you're here!"

"Indeed, I am," Draco replied.

"Mr Malfoy will be staying with me at my flat for a few days," Albus said, turning towards his dad. "For adjustment purposes," he added.

"Al—"

"No, Dad. It's not like that," Albus argued. Draco didn't understand. _Not like what_? "I don't think he wants to stay _here_ , and I don't think it's safe for him at the Manor, to be alone—"

Potter, the elder-Potter, sighed. "Alright, whatever you two feel is best. I will go in and report this to the Ministry. Oh, and Albus—"

"Yeah?" Albus asked hesitantly.

"Happy birthday!" the father smiled at the beaming child, and all Draco thought was _Slytherin, really_?

"I'm going to accompany Mr Malfoy to Gringotts and Ollivander's to get his personal effects, and then we'll be back for the party," Albus said.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Albus’ mum insisted that we throw him a party; it's supposed to be a surprise but—" Draco almost panicked.

"It'll be okay; you have to come, too, Mr Malfoy," Albus said.

"Can you stop calling me Mr Malfoy?" Draco retorted. "You're making me feel—" Draco paused; the boy was making him feel...his father's age, which he was, he _should_ be.

"Of course, Draco," Albus said with a smirk as Potter, _Harry_ , shook his head. Draco couldn't help but feel as though there was some sort of an inside family joke that he didn’t understand.

Draco waited on the sofa in the sitting room when Albus and his dad went into the kitchen to have a private conversation. Draco looked around and felt the warmth that was spread around the house. He saw pictures of all the Weasleys and their children, smiling, looking happy. He saw pictures of a young Ginny Weasley—just like he knew her—in her Harpies' uniform, then pictures of her and Potter holding their children on the days they were born.

Draco felt as though he had missed so much and was sure that no one would have ever actually missed him. He wondered how long it had been until people had realised that he'd vanished.

"Draco," Potter said as he entered the room again with his son. " I would like for you to come to the Ministry tomorrow." Draco was about to retort but Potter continued talking. "Also, I will owl Pansy and Blaise—they live in France. I am sure they’ll look forward to catching up with you. They got married a couple of years after—not sure if you knew that."

Draco chuckled. "I suppose when she realised I was never coming back—"

"Yeah, she was sort of obsessively in love with you," Potter said. They both chuckled, and Draco casually looked over at Albus who didn't smile. Draco wondered if Albus was cross about whatever he and Potter had discussed in the kitchen.

≤•≥

Draco and Albus went to Ollivander's wand shop first. Sebastian Ollivander couldn't believe what he saw. Draco Malfoy had returned to claim his wand and looked younger than him even though Draco should have been over ten years older than Sebastian. Sebastian gave Albus his word that he wouldn't tell anyone of what happened at the shop that day.

"You believe him?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, I don't have a reason not to. We've become friends, and I can trust him," Albus answered.

"Ah, Potters," Draco replied, shaking his head.

"Besides, I know where his girlfriend lives, and his wife does not." Albus smirked when Draco looked at him and nearly gasped. _Slytherin indeed_.

At Gringotts, Albus waited with Draco for their number to be called in order to speak to the head-Goblin regarding Draco's private account. As they waited, Draco could tell that something was bothering Albus, so he asked.

"I'm just curious," Albus said. Draco nodded, gesturing for him to continue. "Why didn't you marry Ms Parkinson? I mean, Mrs Zabini now. She was quite pretty in her day. I mean, she still is."

Draco chuckled. "Blaise was in love with her," he answered, and Albus nodded before Draco continued. "And I was—in love with someone else."

"Who?"

"Nathaniel Lucas Quint," Draco replied as though Albus would know who he was.

Albus thought it over for a moment. "The Quidditch player?" he asked.

"Does he still play?" Draco was curious. He was sure he didn't.

"No, injury about ten years ago. It was at the end of his career anyway. He's actually the flying instructor at Hogwarts," Albus answered.

"Really?" Draco asked raising an eyebrow. "If only I had stayed." Albus laughed at Draco's answer, and Draco joined him a few seconds later. "Well, if I get what I'm here for, perhaps I still might have a chance."

"Yeah, except that he's straight," Albus replied.

"Ah well, he wouldn't be the first bloke I...converted."

"Oh, now I'm even more interested!" Albus said. Their conversation came to a halt as the Goblin approached them, and Draco soon stood up and went with him. He turned to Albus who smiled before he spoke. "I will be right here when you get back."

≤•≥

Albus’ birthday party was—odd. For Draco, and for everyone else.

Everyone that Draco knew from his previous life was almost twice his age while everyone that was his current age were their children. The Potters, the Weasleys, the Finnegans, the Thomases. All of Albus’ friends were fascinated with Draco and his time-travel journey. Draco was apprehensive about coming face to face with Ron Weasley whose deceased wife was the reason Draco was there, but he was surprisingly forgiving.

"It was her dream, and I supported her. She was taken too soon from us, and, if I could go back in time..." he chuckled, "I wouldn't because I know that eventually it'll kill you. But just for argument’s sake, if I went back in time _once_ , I'd tell her, or warn myself to get her to stop. The children grew up without a mother, and —"

"But you remarried," Draco said.

"Yeah, eventually, fifteen years later, but I still would have liked Hermione to raise them—I mean, that came out wrong—I love my wife—" Weasley turned to his current-wife, looking ruffled.

Luna Lovegood, the new Mrs Weasley for the past ten or so years, laughed. "My husband gets quite nervous because he thinks he'll offend me," Lovegood said. "I loved Hermione like a sister and mourned her loss. I don't take offence to that—not at all. She came to our wedding, you know."

"What?" Draco was shocked. _That is bizarre._ Suddenly Draco remembered how Albus had said about his aunt. She’d probably met him after she’d died. 

"Draco, come here!" Albus, quite drunk, called out to him.

"Go ahead," Potter said. "You’re one of them now, not one of us…"

"I—" Draco was confused at what to say, but, before he could say anything, Lily Luna, the third of the Potter clan, grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the young'uns.

Draco heard the adults laugh as he was pulled into the different crowd. It was all utterly surreal.

Draco had managed to get, or rather, _Albus_ had managed to get Draco quite sloshed that night. They eventually left late at night after the parents had gone off, and only a few of the progeny remained. Albus was more drunk than Draco and kept hanging on to Draco for support. Draco allowed it. It had been years since he'd had physical contact, time-travel or no time-travel, and, in his tipsy state, he couldn't deny the fact that he found the Potter boy utterly enchanting.

When they arrived at Albus’ flat, Albus crashed on the sofa, and Draco went into the kitchen to get some water.

He sat next to Albus, handing him a glass as he drank from another. He still could handle his alcohol better than any Potter, he noted to himself.

"This has been an incredible birthday," Albus said.

"Indeed, Potter," Draco said with a smile. He had felt awkward at the party but also soon realised that he was the one who felt the most awkward. Everyone had forgiven and forgotten everything and simply were getting together for a celebration. If anyone had held onto anything, it had been Draco. When he was able to let that go, he had had a delightful time in Potter's company, both senior and junior.

Albus snorted. "You call my father Potter," Albus said. "Call me Al."

"Alright, Al," Draco repeated. It was the first time he'd called Albus by his first name since he'd arrived nearly twenty-four hours ago. "Happy birthday."

"I can't believe you're here," Albus said. "This day—it's been surreal. All of last year, since the day I got that letter, I was so—I don't know."

"So what?" Draco asked. He looked down at his hands and realised he was holding Albus’.

"I wished that the letter wasn't a joke, that you were real, that you'd be arriving. No one believed me, well, except for Lily, but she's wonderful and sweet and will do anything for her big brothers, but besides that—no one believed me. But, I was convinced, it had to be true. After all..." Albus paused again.

Draco squeezed Albus’ hand. "After all...what?"

"You know I was first selected for Auror training in Magical Law Enforcement?" Albus asked, and Draco shook his head. "Yeah, why would you? You’ve been missing for twenty-five years," he laughed. "Yeah, my dad and my brother are Aurors; well, my dad's head Auror now..."

"You're rambling, Potter," Draco said. "I mean...Al."

Albus grinned, squeezing Draco's hand and turning to face him. "Yeah, so I was in Magical Law Enforcement because during my last year at Hogwarts, I wrote this thesis paper on you—"

"On me?" Draco was surprised.

"Yeah, famous former Death Eater and all that," Albus answered. "I wrote that you weren't a criminal, but were being used as a puppet and how real criminal minds work and what they do to manipulate people, all that. Everyone was very impressed and thought that I would make a great Auror because I had a great insight into the criminal mind but—that wasn't it. I was just obsessed..." Albus paused again for a brief second, "...with you."

"You were obsessed with me?" _Wouldn't be the first Potter_ , Draco thought to himself.

"Yeah, my dad..." Albus paused to give an embarrassing laugh. "When I was sixteen, my dad caught me wanking off to an old photo of you—Merlin, you're hot."

"You're drunk," Draco said, almost letting go of Albus’ hand.

"Doesn't mean you're not hot," Albus replied. He leaned in to kiss Draco, but Draco turned away.

"Al...I am your father's..." Draco would be lying if he said he didn't want to kiss Albus, but, regardless of how attracted he was to him, it was still wrong.

"My father's _what_?" Albus snapped. "You're not my father's age, you're my age, and you're not my father's mate...you barely got along when you were in school together."

"I know, but it's still wrong. We should get you to bed," Draco said, standing up and holding out his hand to Albus.

Albus looked smug as he took Draco's hand and stood up himself. "Now who's the Gryffindor?" he remarked. "Sleep in my bed tonight," he said.

"Not tonight," Draco replied. He knew the only way to get Albus to back off would be to make him a hopeful promise. That's how he almost always got Pansy to back off.

"I'll hold you to it, Malfoy," Albus said with a serious tone.

"Don't...don't call me that," Draco said. It was almost too _Potteresque_.

"Yeah, sounds weird. Goodnight, Draco." Albus grinned, and Draco walked him to his room and almost immediately retreated into his.

Later that night, Draco hated himself for thinking that if they both had been a little less drunk, they probably would have ended up—doing whatever Albus would have suggested. Potter would have probably killed him after that. This time, he would have finished the job.

≤•≥

Albus knocked on Draco's door in the morning, and Draco was startled again. He'd slept through the night peacefully. The full night of sleep was a rare occasion; before—last week, twenty-five years ago, Draco had trouble sleeping and only slept in increments of three hours every seven to eight hours. Now, for two days in a row, he'd slept for nearly eight hours each time.

"Breakfast is ready; I'll meet you in the kitchen," Albus said with a smile when Draco opened the door. "Then Dad's asked us to stop by the Ministry." Draco nodded and closed the door behind him. Albus looked particularly alluring in the morning. Draco needed to get back to the Manor; he was sure that he couldn't stay with Albus.

Draco arrived at the breakfast table shortly after a quick shower.

"About last night..." Albus began to speak.

"No need to apologise," Draco said. "It happens to everyone when they are drunk."

"I wasn't going to apologise," Albus answered. "I was going to say that when I woke up this morning, I wished that you'd stayed with me."

_Oh._

"Are all the Potter offspring this blunt?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow and ignoring the twitch in his trousers. It really hadn't been long enough that any one flirty line should get Draco hard. Albus _Bloody_ Potter was something special.

"I believe it's more of a Weasley trait," Albus answered, looking coy.

"Of course," Draco replied and took a bite of his food.

≤•≥

The interrogation at the Ministry was rather less painful than Draco had imagined. Potter, _Harry_ , took charge of most of the questions and the discussions. Draco quickly realised that the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes had quite an extensive knowledge on time-travel and had known about Hermione's research.

"How much supply do you have and for how many jumps?" one of the Ministry officials asked.

"What I discovered was that it was only good for one 'future' jump," Draco answered. "It seems Hermione Granger was heavily against constant time-travel due to the shortening of one's life-span so she only supplied for one."

"Are there any materials you have that will help you create a possibility for another jump?" the man asked.

"No," Draco lied. "She'd provided the formula but it's for future time-travel only; I cannot apply the same formula to travel back in my time if I wanted to do that. Even if I had the potion required."

"What sort of information do you have on this potion?" another man asked, looking intrigued. Draco quickly locked eyes with Potter, and then with Albus, who both shook their head in reluctance. Draco understood right away.

"I have a partial list of the ingredients. I really do not have any information on how to create the time-travel process. I believe Granger, I mean Mrs Hermione Granger-Weasley, was quite adamant at the fact that one should not use it constantly." Draco looked at the Potter duo who both nodded with satisfaction. He had been repeating himself, indicating that he really didn’t have much more information.

"Why did you choose to time-travel?" Albus asked this time, and his smirk was hard to miss.

Draco sighed. "I'm not quite really sure," he replied.

"Surely there must be a reason!" the first man that had questioned Draco stated.

"I—I was alone," Draco said truthfully. He avoided the Potters' gazes now. "It was during the Christmas holidays, and all the students had gone back to their families, and I had none. I was curious and went out searching for an adventure—and came across the H.G. time-travel book. I figured I had nothing to lose, so I gave it a shot. And now I am here today. For me, it's been one day, and, for you lot, it's been twenty-five years."

Draco looked up and saw it, the thing he didn't want to see, the pity look in both sets of eyes. He groaned with frustration.

"Is something the matter, Mr Malfoy?"

"I'm just tired—and hungry. Is this going to take much longer?" Draco replied arrogantly.

"I believe we are done for today," Potter chimed in. "Albus can take you to the Ministry café for lunch."

Albus smiled at Draco who only nodded curtly. He wasn't in the mood for anyone's pity.

"Draco..." Albus said when they sat down at the café with their sandwiches.

"I don't want to talk about it," Draco retorted.

"But..."

"Listen, Potter," Draco said, knowing fully well he wasn't saying _Al_ , "I said I don't want to talk about it."

"Right," Albus answered and gave his sandwich all of his concentration. Draco ate his sandwich and, a few moments later, threw it up.

≤•≥

Draco took the Floo to return to Albus’ flat as he told Albus he simply wished to be alone. In the guest room, Draco rested for a few minutes until he decided to venture out again.

Taking a copy of the list of ingredients he needed for the potion, Draco decided to head to Diagon Alley. During his second visit to Diagon Alley, Draco spent a few moments to let it all sink in. When he’d been there before with Albus he was too engrossed in the young man to have paid attention. 

Draco smiled at the thought that Diagon Alley was still the same—almost exactly the same. Things hadn't changed much in the future and everyone he knew had simply gotten older or passed away.

Draco had an interesting thought to visit his cousin Teddy. He figured he'd talk to Albus about it later, and Albus would probably ask to tag along. The Potter boy had a tendency to be exhaustingly courtly.

Draco stopped over at the apothecary and recognised the owner. The old man recognised him as well.

"Draco Malfoy, boy, you haven't changed at all," the old man said.

Draco smiled. He appreciated that the old man hadn't shouted his name out to the world. "It's good to see you, Mr Mulpepper; you're looking well."

"Not as good as you, but I do have all the best ingredients to keep me young and healthy!" the old man teased.

"Indeed." Draco wondered why the man seemed so casual about meeting him twenty-five years later.

"Any chance you see Ms Granger in your travels?" Mr Mulpepper asked. There it was—of course the man provided Hermione with ingredients for her time-travel potion and had probably seen her in and out over the years.

"Unfortunately, not yet," Draco replied. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"About ten years ago, she said it would be her last visit, and I had hoped she wasn't telling the truth. I mean she died nearly—"

"Twenty-five years ago, I know," Draco said. He smiled graciously at the old man who seemed sad.

"She was charming."

"Indeed, she was," Draco answered. He didn't know Granger intimately, nor would he ever get the chance to, but enough people around him liked her so Draco had no reason to contest otherwise.

"Enough about the past," Mr Mulpepper said, chuckling. "What can I do for you today?"

"Do you have the ingredients that you provided Ms Granger in the past?"

"I haven't needed to get them for a while, but, if you can provide me with a list, I'll see what I can do for you," the man answered.

Draco beamed. He gave Mulpepper the parchment and asked him to owl Draco at Albus’ residence. The man agreed, and Draco was on his way.

≤•≥

"Where have you been?" Albus nearly shouted at Draco when he arrived back at Albus’ flat.

"I went to Diagon Alley, relax," Draco retorted.

"I thought I'd requested for you to not go anywhere without me," Albus said, his tone calming down a bit. "The Ministry has put me in charge of you."

"In charge of me?" Draco scoffed. "I don't need a minder."

"It's policy; I don't make the rules. I volunteered since you were already staying here; otherwise, it would have been someone else who would try to extract more information out of you."

"Why?" Draco asked as he sat on the sofa, looking up at Albus who was still standing, fuming.

"Time-travel is a dangerous venture, Draco. Whoever has discovered the knowledge of it has tried to use it, and nothing good has ever come out. That's why aunt Hermione destroyed all of her work about travelling to the past."

"Oh, I saw a man today who spotted her ten years ago," Draco said, ignoring Albus’ rant.

"You did? Who?" Albus quickly sat down next to him.

"The apothecary owner who I went to see today. He might be able to give me the ingredients I need so that when I am ready to return, I'll be one step closer."

"Right." Albus looked disappointed.

"I can't stay here forever, Albus. I have to get back someday."

"Why can't you stay here?" Albus looked at Draco again. "You said yourself you had nothing then, now you have—"

"What do I have?"

"You have me. I want you, Draco. I have always—"

"What you've wanted is some insane idea of me; your crush on me—it's borderline—" Draco didn't know what to say; he was afraid of hurting Albus’ feelings.

"Delusional," Albus said coldly. "So, I have heard."

"Al—"

Albus leaned in and kissed Draco. Draco reckoned that mid-argument was Albus’ only chance to catch Draco off-guard. Albus pressed firmly on Draco's lips, without hesitation, without any idea of letting go or backing off. Draco didn't respond right away, but soon he gave in, _his body_ gave in. Draco's hand travelled up Albus’ neck into his hair and tugged on it gently. Albus moaned into Draco's mouth, and Draco slid his tongue in. Albus sucked on Draco's tongue, tussling it with his own. He pressed his whole body onto Draco's, pushing him back into the sofa and climbing on top of him.

"Al, wait. Don't—" Draco whispered, and Albus stopped. "This is wrong."

"Is it?" Albus asked, pushing his erection into Draco, acknowledging that he knew Draco was also hard. He ran the palm of his hand on top of Draco's trousers just above the head, and Draco whimpered. "It's not wrong, Draco. It's what I want—what you want."

Draco sighed. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, but he had to say something. He wanted this, he wanted Albus, but he was holding back—because he thought he should.

"Your letter—" Albus spoke. "It came on my birthday last year; you arrived on my birthday this year. Sure—it could be a coincidence, I don't deny that. And yeah, I've had a crush on you—a crush on a presumed dead man for over a decade, and, for some odd reason, no relationship in the past has been satisfying enough—"

"You're rambling again," Draco said, and Albus pushed his prick into Draco’s as punishment.

"Yeah, I've had a crush on you, and you've been dead, but now you're here, physically here, under me, and I want you. I saw you—I saw you yesterday when you woke up, and you thought I was sleeping, and I was hard, and you were staring at me, and it made you hard—I know—"

Draco didn't say anything; he simply pulled Albus towards him and reunited their lips. There was no point arguing with him. Apparently all the Potters were stubborn, hard-headed wankers. Hot, but wankers nonetheless.

It wasn’t long until Draco found himself on Albus’ bed.

Albus pulled Draco on top of him at once. Draco’s body pressed Albus under him, his teeth gently bit Albus’ lower lip, his hands ran through Albus’ hair, and his cock pushed against Albus’ trousers. Draco began massaging Albus’ inner thighs, and Albus moaned at his touch.

Albus’ head pushed back into the pillow, and Draco watched him for a few moments. Albus’ hands grasped Draco’s shoulders, and Draco slowly began to unbutton, unzip, and slide down Albus’ trousers. Draco was taking his time, and Albus was letting him.

"You have no idea how much—I can’t even begin to—" Draco silenced Albus with a kiss.

"Let me see how much you want this," Draco whispered and hurriedly pushed down Albus’ boxers. Draco stared at Albus’ erection and licked his lips. He bent down and licked it once, and Albus moaned again. Draco quickly began to remove his shirt and trousers as Albus watched him.

"You’re sure, Albus?" Draco asked.

"Yes! Fuck, Draco, do something, I want you—so much!" Albus groaned with desperation and frustration. Draco smirked. "Do you not see how hard I am for you?" Albus asked.

"Yeah? What makes me so special?" Draco teased. He let his finger slide down past Albus’ balls to his hole and gently pushed in, toying with him. "Tell me, Albus. Why should I fuck you?"

"Because…" Albus panted. Draco pushed his finger in a little further. Albus was tight. Draco should have really been using lube, but he wasn’t going to push in more than necessary. Draco was watching Albus’ face for cues to stop. "If you don’t fuck me right now, Draco, I might just explode! You—being here—is my dream come true, and I won’t let you go—until I’ve got what I want." Albus spread his legs wider, accepting the challenge.

"I am impressed," Draco said before he leaned down and took the length of Albus’ hard cock in his mouth. Albus moaned again, and Draco pushed in with his finger a little further. Draco began to suck on Albus as greedily as he could. His eyes watered, but he didn’t care; he just wanted more. Albus tugged on Draco’s hair and levelled the rhythm of Draco’s head-bobbing.

Draco moaned around Albus’ cock, his tongue franticly bestowing his undivided attention. Draco’s own cock was erect and twitching, begging for attention, but Draco continued with his mouth on and his finger in Albus.

Draco released Albus’ cock and heard a whimper. He simply needed to gasp a breath of air. Albus moaned again and whispered something that Draco didn't hear. Albus’ eyes were now closed, and Draco saw him mouthing the words, "I’m close…so close."

Draco returned his concentration on Albus’ heavenly cock. Shortly thereafter, Albus’ moans became rowdier—he was finally letting go. Al poured himself in Draco's mouth as Draco continued sucking without flinching. Albus emptied down Draco's throat, and Draco swallowed him whole. Draco released Albus’ cock and looked up gratified. He pushed into Albus now with two fingers and whispered: "Lube."

Albus looked to his left and wandlessly _Accio_ ’d lube into his hand. Draco raised an eyebrow, impressed.

"Only you would stop in the middle of fucking to smirk," Albus commented. Draco bit his lower lip. "Fuck, Draco. I didn't think you could be any more--" Albus moaned.

Draco removed his two fingers from Albus’ hole, and Albus inadvertently whined. Draco's hands gently ran down Albus’ sides and lifted him up for more exposure. He took the lube from Albus’ hands and squirted some on his hand, first lathering his cock with it then pouring some on his fingers and returning his fingers to Albus’ entrance.

Draco pushed himself slowly in as Albus inhaled sharply at the penetration. Draco watched Albus for instruction as he nodded, indicating he was ready for more. Draco slowly slid himself in and out, eliciting small gasps from Albus until Draco finally pushed himself in all the way.

Draco didn't know how long they moved together, but he felt himself close to the edge. Draco leaned in towards Albus to kiss him, and Al wrapped his legs around Draco’s waist. Albus held onto Draco's head and continued kissing him as Draco continued thrusting into Al. Draco moved faster and faster, his groans getting louder with each thrust until he finally came undone.

Draco collapsed on Albus’ body, exhausted with pleasure as Albus continued to kiss the left side of Draco’s face and neck and licked his sweat with his tongue. Draco kissed Albus’ neck and sucked on it gently. It was incredible. He’d just had sex with a man who in his universe was merely a month old. How was he going to leave this behind? Even if he didn’t belong there in that universe, how could he have belonged anywhere without Albus?

"You’re incredible," Draco whispered in Albus’ ear before he rolled off of him and spelled them clean.

"I need you," Albus answered, pulling Draco back into him at the first chance he got. It was as if he’d read Draco’s mind. Draco needed him too, he could feel it.

After they had been too quiet for too long, Draco broke the silence. "My research..." he said.

"Yeah?" Green apprehensive eyes stared at Draco.

"I won’t stop..." Draco answered, pulling Al towards him as he turned, spooning him.

"But you’ll stay?" Albus asked, pushing into Draco’s groin, making himself comfortable in his caress.

"For the time being—I’ll stay," Draco replied and kissed the top of Albus’ head. "And your dad—"

"He'll understand." Albus assured him.

"He will?" Draco asked, sceptical of Albus’ optimism.

"He's good like that."

"If you say so."

_The End_


End file.
